Tea was served with the same efficiency as the embrace. Quick, precise, and with utter confidence. Henrietta always moved this way, with efficiency and complete control over her movements and her reactions.
Which was why her instant, unstudied response to Eliza’s new style had frightened her so. It was rare indeed to startle the calm, composed Henrietta.
“My apologies,” Henrietta said with a kind smile. “I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just that you look—”
“Ridiculous,” Eliza finished.
Henrietta laughed and the sound put Eliza at ease. “Of course not. I was going to say different, that is all.” Her friend’s gaze swept over the oh-so-modern cut of the bodice, which made Eliza feel horrifically exposed, then it moved over the gold silk of the skirts, which Mary said complemented her complexion.
Finally that all-seeing blue gaze took in her simple yet elegant loosely coiled coif, which was so very different from the severe style she normally wore. The hair, were she being honest, was the only change she didn’t abhor.
Henrietta’s gaze met hers and the warmth there said it all. “Oh Eliza, you look truly lovely.”
Eliza was finally able to draw in enough air to truly relax. Her friend was nothing if not honest. If Henrietta deemed this makeover a success, then she would trust her opinion.
The two had been friends for years, drawn together by their oddities, which were so different and yet equally unfathomable to most people in their lives. Known to her intimate friends as Henri—pronounced Henry, as in the gentleman’s name—the lady was as unique as her nickname, to say the least.
But whereas Eliza’s peculiarities were on display—all knew of her temper and her lack of social grace—Henrietta’s were hidden behind the façade of perfection. From her perfect blonde ringlets to her pouty pink lips, Henrietta looked the very picture of feminine innocence. By her appearance and demeanor, one would believe she was sweetness and light personified.
Only a very few knew of her scheming and her fierce intellect. Behind the dewy-eyed smile was the heart of a predator on the hunt, and she used her sweet, yet feebleminded brother to do her bidding. She was the mastermind and he her pawn, and no one was the wiser.
Except for Eliza, of course. Henrietta didn’t try to hide any of this from Eliza, not after all these years of being sisters in rapidly approaching spinsterhood.
Her gaze narrowed on Eliza as she sipped her tea. “Are you certain you wish to go forward with this plan?”
Eliza nodded.
Henrietta was the only one who knew of her true motives and her methods. Just as Henrietta had no secrets from Eliza, Eliza found Henrietta to be the only lady in existence who understood her well enough that she might be candid without fearing reproach.
Indeed, Henrietta had not only been approving of Eliza’s heartless tactics to acquire a husband who was not of her father’s choosing, but she even applauded the ruthlessness behind it.
Eliza didn’t typically steer toward the heartless—that was Henrietta’s domain. But in this case, Eliza could make an exception. Specifically for this man. He deserved nothing less than a wife like her, and truly, if all went according to her plan that would be the worst burden he would have to bear.
He would be stuck with her, and she with him. But, she would have a modicum of freedom as her consolation and he…well, he would have the money he so callously craved.
Her heart twisted at the thought of it. There were many flaws she could overlook, and she was not so uppity and uncharitable that she could not forgive a man his vice, as reprehensible as gambling might be.
No, what really made her ill was the greed behind it. The type of greed that had made her father less of a man and more of a monster in her eyes as she’d grown older and wiser. His anger and his cruelty were a burden to bear, but it was greed that fueled him and it was that greed she blamed for her current situation.
In this instance, however, she supposed she ought to be grateful for greed. Without it she wouldn’t stand a chance of luring Jed into marriage.
Henrietta was still eyeing her critically and her pretty pink mouth twisted up in a cynical smirk. “Do you know, dearest, I do believe you could tempt your gentleman without the prospect of your ample dowry.”
Confusion had Eliza squinting at her friend. “Whatever do you mean?”
Henrietta laughed as she reached for a pastry. “Just that I had no idea you were hiding such lovely attributes.”
Eliza blushed as her friend’s gaze dropped meaningfully to her exposed décolletage before she took a bite. “Is it too much?”
“Not at all,” Henrietta said quickly. “And you know I am only teasing. You look pretty, dear. Truly lovely.”
Eliza rolled her eyes as her friend daintily nibbled on her pastry. “Now you exaggerate.”
Henrietta shook her head quickly, her curls bouncing with the movement. “You know I never exaggerate—not to you, at least. And I never lie.” Her tone was firm, and for good reason. This was a point of some pride for her friend. Henrietta was extremely adept at bending the truth when it suited her, at artfully phrasing a matter to achieve the intended desire—but she never lied.
Henrietta met her gaze evenly. “While it is true that your sister’s machinations did not suddenly transform you into a great beauty, she has successfully accentuated your finer assets and softened your features becomingly.” Henrietta studied her once more and gave a short nod. “Friend or no friend, I would describe you as quite lovely were I to see you across a dancefloor.”
Eliza stared in disbelief but stopped herself before she could protest any more. There was humble and then there was pitiful. She refused to be the latter. Instead, she tucked her friend’s compliment away to ponder at another time.
“I merely meant to say,” Henrietta continued. “That if you chose to entrap your gentleman through more traditional means, I feel confident you would succeed.”
Eliza shifted in her seat in discomfort at the sort of seduction she implied. “He is not my gentleman and this is not entrapment, merely…temptation.”
Henrietta’s smirk was back. This was a side of the pretty young noblewoman that few ever saw. Knowing, quick, and just a little wicked—that was how Eliza would describe her friend’s smile. “Tell me again how you aim to tempt him.”
They’d been over this often enough, but Eliza did as she was bid. Her friend was the true strategist between them. An avid chess player, Henrietta tended to view life as she did the game—as a continual battle of wits, analyzing maneuvers and looking for potential pitfalls or surprises.
Henrietta despised surprises. She liked to be prepared for anything, and as she seemed to be just as invested in Eliza’s scheme as Eliza was, she was certain her friend wanted to run through her plan once more to avoid any such unexpectedness.
So, for what felt like the millionth time, Eliza laid out her plan.
She would use Georgie and Mary’s ridiculously romantic notions to find some time alone with Jed. Then she would propose marriage, clearly and explicitly laying out her argument as to what he had to gain.
Aside from a wife, obviously.
She’d had Henrietta ask around after his finances and had learned that the Earl of Davenport had paid off Jed’s creditors when he’d married Jed’s sister Anne. But, she’d also learned that Davenport, not being a fool, had made it a requirement that Jed pay back the sum. Eliza and Henrietta had assumed this was Davenport’s way of teaching Jed a lesson.
Eliza approved.
But knowing Jed—or rather, knowing men, in general—she and Henrietta also felt safe to assume that this sort of indebtedness to another man of equal age and of higher stature would grate on Jed. It would be a blow to his pride, and his perpetual obligation would fuel that resentment.
Not only did he not have money of his own to enjoy himself as he’d been known to do before his wagers went south, but any money he could glean was instantly spirited off to another man. A former friend.
/> “Yes, we know he is in need of money.” Her friend nearly bristled with impatience. It often seemed that no one moved or spoke quickly enough for Henrietta.
“Indeed,” Eliza said. “My sizeable dowry will be a temptation, I believe, but it is not a guarantee. I am hopeful that I can appeal to his love of gambling. If I run off with Jed there is a chance that my father will cut me off entirely…” She paused as her pulse quickened as it always did at the fear that her own gamble could go horribly awry. “But I do not think he will. My father prides himself on his family’s connections and good name. He would not disown me without a penny.” She babbled for her own benefit, trying to assure herself more than anyone.
She pressed her lips together to stop her rambling. It went without saying that her father’s concern would not be for her own welfare but to save face in society.
Henrietta nodded. “So you’re wagering that Jed will be so tempted to receive your ample dowry that he’ll take the chance of running off to Gretna Green with you.” Her friend eyed her meaningfully. “Forever ruining your chances with that awful gentleman your father wishes you to wed.”
Eliza nodded, attempting to keep the disgust from her face at the mention of her father’s business colleague—a much older man with a cruel look in his eyes whom her father wished to win over with a wedding.
Her father did not even try to hide the fact that he was all but selling her future for the sake of his bottom line. She shoved those thoughts to the side as she watched her friend mentally calculate odds and personalities.
Henrietta had a special knack for understanding people, why they did what they did and what they would do next. It was this clarity that had made her and her brother so very wealthy. While Eliza had been born with plenty of money and no title, Henrietta had been born an impoverished noblewoman.
But then she and her brother were orphaned and her elder brother became her guardian when he was little more than a schoolboy. Really, the estate might as well have been handed directly to Henrietta. She was the brains in the family, and her brother Rodrick had no complaints as long as she kept him in brandy and cigars, with some extra spending money to keep up with his friends at the club.
Rodrick also enjoyed a good game of cards, and Henrietta had realized early on that this was how she could secure their financial future. Oh, not that she expected Rodrick to suddenly start winning. If she could perhaps go in person and play the games herself, it would be another matter. As it was, she was forced to stay at home and let her brother waste his money with terrible bets.
But, while she could not read the cards, she could read people. Her brother had no qualms about playing the informant, telling her all the gossip from his end as she learned all she could from the old biddies and silly chits she was forced to entertain. With this information she gave her brother instructions on how to bet when it came to those late-night wagers that were held in secret.
The bets that everyone knew existed but no one talked about.
Bets involving people. Wagers on weddings and scandals, trysts and debauchery. Henrietta’s peculiar gift for reading people was never more useful than when it came time to predict a peer’s next foible or folly.
Rodrick frequently slipped away from his drinks and his friends to consult with his sister. On occasion he’d send a footman with a cryptic note using their own personal code. That was how Henrietta had gotten wind of Jed’s near-wager over Eliza’s sister, a bit of information for which she would be forever grateful.
Luckily for all, Jed had walked away from the bet, but if he hadn’t, Eliza had been prepared to stop him at any cost. And now that information was proving useful once again. It was, in all honesty, what had given her the idea in the first place. Her father’s proclamation that she would marry one of his business cronies had brought terror…and then scheming.
Her saving grace was that her father’s friend, Mr. Reginald Horsham, was currently traveling the continent. His absence had bought her a bit of time, and it was time she could ill afford to waste.
He would return in the new year and once he was in England, there was no escaping her father’s plans lest she run away with no money and a ruined reputation.
No, much as that sort of freedom appealed to her, it was an impossible scheme. One that would mean saying farewell to her sister forever. Were she to run, she would have no protection and she knew without a doubt that her father would search for her.
She would be free but in constant danger, and that was no way to live.
Her best bet would be to find a husband of her own choosing. But her father would never give his approval now that he had a use for her. So the problem had been—how to get a man to marry her without the sure promise of her dowry?
The answer was simple. She needed a man who couldn’t resist a gamble. She knew all too well just how low Jed Cleveland would sink to win a bet. And for once she was glad of it.
She gripped her hands in her lap as she watched her friend calculate her odds. She was betting her life and her happiness on this wager. “Please tell me you believe this will work, Henri. My father is likely working on his contract to sell me for a profit even as we speak.”
She wished that sort of talk was hyperbole.
It was not.
Henrietta leaned over, honest concern in her eyes. “Even if this plan fails, I will not let you come to harm. We will find another way.”
That was reassuring indeed. Henrietta did not lie. And if anyone could come up with a plan, it was she. She reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand in gratitude. “It means the world to me having you on my side. You know that, do you not?”
Henri squeezed her hand in return before waving aside her embarrassment. “Pish, who else would laugh at all the upright, snobby ladies with me if not you?”
That was as close as Henrietta had ever gotten to being sentimental about their friendship and it made Eliza laugh softly. It was true. Their friendship had formed around a mutual love of mocking the women who snubbed them, but it had grown into so much more.
“Even if this plan fails,” Eliza repeated, her friend’s words coming back to her and giving her pause. “Does that mean you believe it will? Or are you just acknowledging the possibility for failure?”
Henrietta gave her a patient, reassuring smile. “I believe you will succeed. Not only is Jed a gambling man by nature, he is also a kind man, from what I know of him.”
Eliza gave a grudging murmur of agreement. But that was one of the reasons she chose him, was it not? He not only fit her needs due to his dire financial situation, but she did not fear him. He was not the most upstanding man, and his greed was repulsive in the extreme.
But he would not hurt her.
As Henrietta said, he was a kind man. Weak, perhaps, and lacking in moral fiber, but not cruel. After all, he could have used Mary and her innocence to solve all of his problems, but he had not.
She let out a humorless huff of laughter. Who would have thought that would be held so highly in his favor? Two years ago she’d chided him for trying to justify himself with that rationale, and now here she sat, using that same reasoning to try and convince herself he wasn’t such an unfeeling rake after all.
Henrietta set down her cup of tea. “To put it simply, Jed Cleveland might just be the mix of moral corruptness and natural kindness that is perfectly suited for this sort of endeavor.”
Eliza let out a long sigh of relief.
But Henrietta was not done. “I see only two potential downfalls.”
Eliza stiffened. “What are they?”
“That you ruin the perfectly efficient, businesslike pairing by developing feelings for Mr. Cleveland.”
Eliza gave an unladylike snort of disbelief. “I can assure you that will not happen. What is the other potential pitfall?”
Henrietta pursed her lips before speaking. “That he will develop feelings for you.”
Now Eliza truly did laugh, her concerns melting away now that she realized her friend
had read this situation entirely wrong—for the first time in her life, no doubt. She reached for her tea. “I assure you, Henri. It will be a cold day in hell before Jed Cleveland falls in love with me.”
Chapter Two
Jed suspected he was heading straight toward his own personal hell. If it wasn’t so bloody cold, he’d be certain of it.
“We should be there soon,” his sister Claire said. She was sitting across from him in the carriage, snug underneath a heavy blanket to help fight the cold. Atop the blanket she was clasping hands with her husband, Nicholas. His presence was one of the reasons Jed so desperately wished he could cry off this bloody gathering.
Nicholas, unlike Claire, was not trying to shine a positive light on this wretched situation. Claire and Georgie had concocted this scenario, he was sure of it. Making sure that he and Nicholas were forced into a carriage together for this trip to the country.
Worse, then he’d be thrust into a home with his backstabbing friend, along with his two other brothers-in-law, each one more deceptive than the next.
His sisters, God bless them, shared an extraordinarily wicked taste in men. But maybe that was his fault—and his father’s. Neither man had provided a good example of solid male character. Perhaps it was no wonder Anne, Claire, and Georgie had been drawn to these devilish rakes.
He shifted uncomfortably on the carriage seat, trying to stay warm and find a spot that did not hurt his back. Lord, but he was too old for this sort of nonsense. He’d be thirty soon enough, and what had he to show for it aside from the aching back?
A life in shambles, that was what. Poorer than he’d ever been, a disappointment to his siblings, and now being forced to make nice with the three men who’d outright thumbed their noses at his position as his siblings’ guardian.
Nicholas worst of all. He’d been his friend. His closest ally. Nicholas’s traitorous methods of seducing his sister could not be forgiven. Jed was civil enough to the charming rake, but he refused to pretend as though they were still the closest of friends.
A Gentleman's Gamble (Devilish Lords Book 3) Page 3